Chapter 19: Jealous? Of Course Not… (Revised)
In a classroom somewhere else, Nozomi Sakura was doing what she’d done more often than almost anything else in her life.
She was drifting off.
Her senses blurred. The teacher’s voice slowly transformed into something distant, like a lullaby her mother used to hum when she was small.
Her eyelids slid shut without permission. Her head bobbed in time with the teacher’s hand movements, repetitive, meaningless. The tip of her ballpoint pen smeared a small black cloud across the page.
The classroom felt like one vast, ritualistic lullaby.
For Nozomi, lectures had that effect. It wasn’t just the words; it was the cramped but quiet space, the steady monotone of the teacher, the strange sense of safety.
Sleep washed over her like a rising tide.
Just as she was about to surrender completely, something long and hard jabbed sharply into her side.
“—!"
It was like a bolt of lightning. Nozomi’s eyes flew open, her slender back snapping straight as her fingers clenched tightly around the pen that had nearly slipped from her grasp.
A stifled snicker drifted from behind her.
Her face burned. Nozomi hurriedly fixed her gaze on the textbook and tried to match the teacher’s pace again. Unfortunately, she had no idea how long she’d been out. Her eyes darted across the page, unsure which line she was supposed to be following.
Noticing her panic, the bespectacled girl beside her tapped the lower-left corner of the page with her own pen.
Nozomi’s eyes lit up. After a quick glance at the PowerPoint slides, she immediately began underlining the key points.
The girl next to her was Yuri.
Yuri wasn’t helping out of kindness. Nozomi was paying her to keep watch. In fact, Yuri did far more than that. Tutoring, quizzes, shared notes, reminders, she was practically a private tutor.
The price was one hundred thousand yen a month.
By Tokyo standards, that was cheap. One-on-one tutoring usually went for around two thousand yen an hour, and Yuri wasn’t limiting herself to just one subject.
After all, people deserved to be paid for what they did. Yuri believed that, and so did Nozomi.
The temptation of a million yen was simply too strong to resist.
That was why Nozomi had resolved to get serious starting this week. She’d even turned down Akane Mia’s invitation to hang out. This time, she had to see things through properly.
Besides, even after paying Yuri, she would still have two hundred thousand yen left each month. If she kept this up, she could clear her loan by the end of the semester and finally stop living the lie of looking glamorous while secretly panicking about the next payment.
She almost hoped Alan would give her another assignment. That would let her erase the debt effortlessly, and still leave enough money for a lavish vacation, or to buy whatever she wanted.
As for the stardom Alan kept talking about, the dream certainly glittered. But for now, it felt like a castle floating in the clouds. Better to keep her feet on the ground, just as he’d said.
Dong-dong-dong.
“All right, that’s it for today. As for homework—”
After several more discreet nudges from Yuri’s pen, the lecture finally ended.
“Still heading to the library to study?” Yuri asked, adjusting her black-rimmed glasses as she stacked her books.
“Yeah, but I need to stop by the restroom first…”
“Okay. I’ll go ahead and save our usual spot.”
“Got it.”
Nozomi nodded, slung her tote over her shoulder, and was about to follow when a burst of excited voices erupted behind her.
“Eh?!”
“Friend A is retiring?!”
Nozomi stopped mid-step and turned.
“Friend A?”
“The one who’s been writing songs for Akari Hojo. He’s quitting for good.”
“Seriously? You’re joking.”
“It’s real. The official account posted it. Hojo and Friend A announced it at the same time.”
“Whoa…”
Nozomi’s brows furrowed. She couldn’t remember when it started, but every time she heard the name Akari Hojo, a faint irritation prickled beneath her skin.
As Alan’s current girlfriend, it felt like someone was constantly stepping on her head.
It wasn’t jealousy. Nozomi knew her feelings for Alan weren’t deep enough for that.
She was simply… annoyed.
Annoyed enough to tear down every Akari Hojo poster in her room. Annoyed enough to list the matching handbag she’d just bought on a resale site. Annoyed enough to shove the unsellable accessories into a suitcase and let them gather dust.
If only she weren’t Alan’s girlfriend.
That thought had been surfacing more and more lately.
Then she could still like Hojo. She could listen to Alan’s unrealistic dreams without feeling suffocated by invisible pressure.
She wished she could rewind time and unsee that photograph from that night.
But even if she had, she would’ve found out eventually, wouldn’t she? It felt as though unseen hands had twisted her into the narrow space between the two of them.
She bit her lip, took a steadying breath, and pulled out her phone.
Whatever was going on, she wanted to see it for herself.
Twitter loaded. Hojo’s agency, Hojo herself, and Friend A had all released statements.
Hojo and her company sounded formal and polite.
Friend A’s message, however, stood out.
“Running out of talent.” “Chasing a new dream.” “The money isn’t much, but it’ll be enough for the next goal.”
Nozomi scrolled. The comments were chaotic.
“What a shame. Their partnership feels like a couple breaking up…”
“Only idiots think Friend A is one person. It’s obviously a studio brand. Why else would the styles jump around so much?”
“Hojo has concerts coming up anyway. Perfect timing for publicity.”
“They say Friend A left her two final songs…”
Arguments flared endlessly over whether Friend A was real or just a front.
Nozomi’s finger paused on one comment.
“Without Friend A’s songs, will Akari Hojo still stay popular?”
Will she?
Replies flooded in.
“Hojo’s vocals are unmatched. She’ll shine no matter what she sings.”
Others countered, “Without good songs, even the best voice goes to waste.”
Nozomi narrowed her eyes. On impulse, she opened Alan’s chat window and typed.
“Did you hear that Friend A is retiring?”
If you wanted to understand someone, asking the people closest to them was always the fastest way.
Of course, asking an ex might get you an answer that was a little… extreme.
But right now, Nozomi wanted to hear exactly how Alan would talk about Akari Hojo.
“Got it.”
The reply came almost instantly. Her eyes flickered in surprise as her thumbs flew.
“Without Friend A’s songs, do you think Hojo—”
Before she could finish, a new message popped up.
“Come to A-304.”
It felt like being interrupted at the worst possible moment. Nozomi quietly deleted the half-written sentence, messaged Yuri that she’d be late, and headed off.
As she walked down the corridor, one question echoed in her mind.
What does he want now?
***
“I remember your weekends are free.”
The moment she stepped into the room—before she could even clearly see the figure near the air conditioner—Alan’s voice greeted her.
Nozomi blinked, then felt a small flutter of excitement bloom in her chest.
Is he asking me out again?
Date equals new clothes plus good food.
The equation formed instantly. Dating Alan really was the best.
Still, a girl had to keep some dignity. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, walked over, and sat beside him.
“I think I should be free…”
“Good.” Alan glanced over, lifted the remote, and set the air conditioner to twenty-two degrees.
Running the AC for just two people felt extravagant, but Nozomi didn’t mind the luxury.
“So?” she asked. “What’s the plan?”
“If you’re free, start taking acting classes this weekend. I’ve already arranged everything. Fifty-six sessions in total. You won’t finish this term, so you’ll continue during the break.”
Halfway through his explanation, the shy smile on Nozomi’s face slowly faded.
“…?”
She immediately regretted every wish she’d made a minute earlier.
“Um, actually, I just remembered—I promised some friends I’d—”
The excuse died the instant their eyes met.
“Finish the course and pass the final exam,” Alan said calmly, “and I’ll give you one million yen.”
Nozomi’s fingers tightened around the hem of her skirt. She bit her lip.
“It’s not about the money…”
I want a break too. Weekdays are already exhausting. Weekends as well? This feels more like a job than dating.
Seeing her hesitation, Alan added, “Two million.”
“Okay. Understood.”
Her eyes lit up immediately. Suddenly, the extra workload sounded completely reasonable.
Alan nodded in satisfaction. “Good. I’ll attend the classes with you.”
Then, as if recalling something, he studied her face. “By the way, didn’t you say your friends wanted to meet me? What time? I’ll clear my schedule.”
“Ah… about that…” Nozomi’s gaze wavered. “Some of them can’t make it this week. Maybe we can skip it for now…”
She’d already confirmed Alan’s past through Hojo. There was no need for a meet-up anymore. Still, a faint guilt tugged at her, as though she were manipulating him.
He probably wouldn’t notice. But it didn’t sit quite right.
Alan looked at her flimsy excuse for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. I understand.”
Meeting his calm gaze made her panic.
“I’m not hiding that you’re my boyfriend! I’ve already told them—”
“Okay.”
His expression didn’t change.
That unreadable calm unsettled her even more.
Biting her lip, she scooted closer and raised her phone. “I’ve wanted to post about us, but I didn’t have proof. Some annoying guys keep asking for my LINE… If we took a picture together, everyone would know.”
Alan disliked photos. He rarely took any, even with Hojo. But Nozomi’s request was hard to refuse.
He leaned closer.
Nozomi slid naturally into his lap.
Warmth spread through her chest. It was the first time she’d been this close to a boy. Blushing, she pressed the shutter.
Click.
She studied the photo and smiled. He looked good on camera. With a few taps, she opened Instagram, added a caption, and showed him.
“You’re wonderful, and I really like you. Let’s stay together.”
Simple. Sincere. Clearly prepared in advance.
“It’s nice,” Alan said, starting to pack his books.
Halfway through, he noticed Nozomi staring at him with clear resentment.
He paused. “What’s wrong?”
“Um…” She lowered her gaze. “I know we’re not that close yet, but… could you post it too? So everyone knows…”
The unspoken question hung between them.
Do you have another girlfriend?
After a brief pause, Alan replied, “I don’t have many contacts, but sure.”
It would also force Hojo to give up.
He posted the photo, blocked his aunt, and showed Nozomi the screen.
Her smile bloomed. “Thank you.”
Hojo would see it now.
Nozomi didn’t know why that thought pleased her, but it did.
Remembering the question she’d meant to ask, she glanced at Alan’s profile. “Alan, do you know Friend A—”
“Speaking of that, I just remembered something—”
They spoke at the same time and fell silent.
“You go ahead,” Alan said.
“O-okay… Do you know why Friend A suddenly stopped writing songs?”
“He mentioned it online. Writer’s block. He just doesn’t want to compose anymore.”
“He’s really just one person?”
“What else would he be?”
“I didn’t mean it like that… People online say he’s actually a whole team.”
“It’s one guy.”
“Oh.”
“So… a man?”
“Yes.”
“Aren’t you jealous?”
“No.”
Unless someone had multiple personalities, it would be strange to be jealous of oneself.
Nozomi hid a small smile.
“So you’re done?” Alan asked.
“One last thing. Do you think Akari Hojo will stay popular now that Friend A’s gone?”
“Why wouldn’t she?” Alan replied flatly. “She’s genuinely talented. She could sing anything and still succeed. And while Friend A’s songs are solid, they’re hardly irreplaceable.”
“Right…”
Still pretending he isn’t jealous.
If he truly weren’t, he wouldn’t be dismissing the guy like that.
Nozomi smiled anyway. “Okay. What did you want to tell me earlier?”
“I’m taking Wednesday off to celebrate my younger sister’s birthday.”
“…?”
Her smile froze.
The way he said it felt less like consideration and more like a notification.
After a long pause, Nozomi asked quietly, “Is she your actual sister?”
Alan paused.
"No, it's Akari Hojo's younger sister."
"…?"
Every trace of expression vanished from Nozomi's face.
“If people see that,” Nozomi said evenly, “it won’t look good for us, right?”
Alan considered it.
“Then come with me.”
“…”
